


101 ways to meet a soulmate

by royallyeffed



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, One Shot Collection, Theyre soulmates, i just want everyone to be happy, the whole gang will come and go tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royallyeffed/pseuds/royallyeffed
Summary: A compilation of one shots ranging from utterly cute to incredibly angsty. Could be them meeting for the first time or a little peek into an au, and anything in between.





	1. Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is going to (hopefully) be 101 snippets of different scenes between Blake and Yang. Could be them meeting for the first time or just some cute one-shots, probably some angst if I’m being real… we’ll see where it takes us! This’ll be my little side project since I have folders of notes on my phone with countless little prompts, and this will hopefully help improve me as a writer as well. Most of these will be unedited for the most part, but if there is anything glaringly wrong, feel free to let me know :) Happy reading!

College parties are a notoriously crazy scene and tonight just isn’t Blake’s night. Granted, she’s been sulking so it was only a matter of time before Sun and Weiss forced her to go out.

“Live a little,” Sun had said. “We’re still so young and the night has only just begun!”

And then he made a joke about being a poet, so Blake agreed to go (only to shut him up).

Although it isn’t nearly the worst decision she’s ever made, being around this many people is starting to affect her. The music beats as urgently as her heart and people keep chattering, yelling increasingly louder the looser everyone becomes. There’s dancing in one room, drinking games in another, and joints in the backyard, but nowhere is quiet... not a single place holds peace.

Especially her head.

It’s so loud and Sun is beyond obnoxious. He’s downing drinks like he’s invincible and keeps talking at Blake just a little too exaggeratedly. Of course, they’re all so young, invincibility is a side effect and they’re all determined to live tonight like they’ll live forever. But Blake has a limit. Although she hasn’t found her drink limit quite yet, she can’t handle Sun anymore, so she slips away from the crowd, away from the chaos. She needs fresh air desperately, and hearing crickets at this point wouldn’t be horrible either.

She stumbles around people, trying to avoid the overly intoxicated ones who can’t decipher left from right, but there’s no use; everyone here is wasted. After nearly colliding with a young couple who are too distracted by each other’s wandering hands, Blake’s walk increases its pace.

She turns a corner, hoping to find the exit somewhere close, but upon seeing the people who occupy the room, her frantic heart rate comes to a stand still.

Wild blonde hair was in her hairbrush a week ago after she spent the night, a stray golden strand was found on her desk a couple nights ago after she was shoved against it, and that same mesmerizing mane is swaying back and forth as Blake’s former lover dances in a hypnotizing rhythm.

No matter how many people are in the room, there’s magnets drawing the two of them together, and Blake can’t resist basic physics.

But she can resist emotional confrontations... and she’s learned how to be very good at it.

Blake pivots and rushes through the patio doors, striding passed people sharing a joint and talking towards the stars. She reaches a fence, leans against the post, taking her turn to look at the stars that hang like a chandelier in the pitch black. She inhales, holds, exhales, and wishes the stars would guide her to peace.

They don’t.

“I really didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”

Blake spins and straightens as that honey sweet voice carries through the cool night air. Goosebumps arise on Blake’s skin, she blames the breeze.

“I didn’t plan on coming.” Blake defends with a rasp to her voice.

With her hands stuffed in her pockets, Yang takes slow steps towards Blake. She has her hair cascading down behind her, her simple white top french tucked into her black ripped jeans, and her black boots kick at the grass with each noticeably cautious step. Blake knows she’s scared of making the wrong move, scaring her off, but they’ve already made the wrong moves. That’s why they’re here.

“Makes sense,” the blonde says as she comes to a stop an arm’s length away. If she wanted to, Blake could reach out and touch her, but instead, lavender eyes meet hers with a look of subtle intensity. “I mean you did come out here pretty fast.”

“I needed some fresh air.” It’s simple, reasonable.

She can’t have this conversation right now. Although her excuse is always that she isn’t ready, she just simply doesn’t want to. Her past is buried, and she isn’t one to go digging it all up.

Even if a certain blonde is grouped into her so-called “past” now too.

“Blake, it doesn’t take a genius to know what’s actually going on.” Yang steps closer.

“You must still be confused then.” Blake says dryly.

The blonde’s pink lips quirk at the sarcastic remark, and when Blake’s eyes lift to meet Yang’s again, there’s a gleam resting within them.

She’s been caught glancing: strike one.

“Maybe you should catch me up.” Another step closer and the wind now pulls Yang’s citrus shampoo into Blake’s atmosphere. She remembers her own hair smelling like that after a few late nights. “Tell me why, even around so-called friends, you’re still running away.”

Blake’s body becomes rigid, her muscles turning to stone; moving right this moment causes Yang’s statement to become factual. Blake has the habit of running from more than just people, and it seems the truth always tends to be more harmful anyways. She wonders if running faster would help avoid this confrontation.

“I’m not running from anything.” The statement tastes bitter on her tongue.

“I may not be a genius, but you’re definitely a liar.” Yang quirks her brow in expectation. She knows she’s right.

And so does Blake.

“We both agreed on casual, so if this is about me ‘ghosting’ you, or whatever you call it...”

“You say it so evenly.”

“...I think we’re better off just being friends.”

Yang has the nerve to laugh at that statement. Maybe somewhere in some cynical part of her heart Blake feels that she should be laughing too. Her words feel so foreign, so out of place, and so obviously a lousy cover up for her fears.

If she can’t convince herself, how can she convince Yang?

Blonde hair sways as Yang shakes her head, smiling to the ground, stepping towards Blake yet again. The wind being the only thing that fits between the two of them, leaving no more room for the seemingly constant lies.

Yang’s mischievous gaze meets Blake’s, and within that instant, there’s a trap set and Blake is caught stumbling in. “Blake, ‘just friends’ don’t know the way you taste.” Yang’s breath skates over Blake’s lips as she gasps at the words. Yang’s hand floats to her arm, fingers tracing up to her shoulder. There’s sparks, lightning, and webs tangling the two lovers together. “Friends don’t know how your skin feels like I do.”

Maybe they’ve always been tangled together, always destined to be this close on this night, with nothing left between them. Webs don’t have an end after all, only a center to be caught within.

Fingers wind their way into Blake’s hair and her whole world slows down. Yang leans her head down, their foreheads resting against each other, as she says, “Friends don’t know what you sound like when I get you alone.” The universe becomes quiet and the only painfully obvious thing left in existence is whatever is between her and Yang.

It’s a hard hit, one that knocks the air from her lungs, but she can’t back down. She can’t hurt Yang with neutrality or lying, so Blake resorts to speaking the truth.

“I can’t fall in love.” That isn’t the core issue, they both know it. Maybe the whole truth is meant only for Blake.

“It isn’t that you can’t, it’s that you don’t want to. And look,” she pulls her head back the smallest amount. “If you really don’t want to, then fine, I’m definitely not going to force you.” Yang chuckles a bit with a shake of her head. “But what makes you think I’m not going to catch you when you fall?”

The sincerity in Yang’s eyes threaten to knock her flat. Blake shouldn’t be standing here anymore — she needs to leave. She can’t keep talking. “Trust isn’t the easiest thing for me.” Blake admits in a more honest tone than she intended.

“It isn’t for me either, but I’m not going anywhere.” Yang has always been all about ‘mutual’ aspects of their relationship (if it can be called that), so why does the same honesty from Yang surprise Blake so much? Yang should be running too, not waiting.

“That’s the thing, though, I might. Trust isn’t easy for me, but running away is.”

Yang’s nose brushes hers, lilac eyes search gold to show intent and seeking approval. Blake feels her lean in and ghost her lips across Blake’s own. “What if you stayed?”

Blake feels the question in her bones. The game is over, They’ve thrown off their jerseys and left their souls exposed. She’ll hand the trophy to Yang. Blake presses her lips firmly against Yang and the sparks turn into an inferno. No one has to get burned this time, Blake realizes. The web they’re tangled in is fate after all.


	2. Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it's all about the timing / Then the phone is right beside you / And all along the noises cancel out"
> 
> \- "A Phone Call in Amsterdam" by Valley

“ _ Hey, it’s me! _ ” Says the recorded voice in a sweet tone. “ _ Just calling to wish you a happy birthday. Call me back when you get a chance! _ ”

Her voice has always been gentle, like a caress and it reminds the blonde of whispered words at midnight when the two shared a bed. But the past is the past, all written, waiting to be retold to new ears.

Yang just can’t seem to find her place and a person to tell it all to. Rather, she thought she had found her person, but things like that change when a person is left behind.

The quarters clink against the other dropped change as they’re inserted into the phone booth. The phone rings once... twice... thrice...

It’s answered with a click and an intake of breath is heard through the line.

“Hey, stranger.” The blonde greets with a raspy tone. The raindrops creating a steady rhythm on the roof of the small shelter the phone is hidden in.

“Tell me your story.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, but Yang’s knows better. Blake would beg for every single word if she’d felt that her old friend was holding anything back.

But how can she tell an “old friend” that she’s constantly looking for a warm bed that isn’t so empty? That nobody feels right? They’re too warm or not warm enough and every curve rubs against hers in an incomplete way, sharp edges where there never should be. No one compares to Blake, but the last time she told that part of the story, her “friend” ran the other direction. So when Yang became stir crazy, she went searching too.

“I got bored, so I hopped on a bus and now I’m in some middle of nowhere city. This is the first time I’ve seen rain in the last three months, tacos are better here than they were in the last city, and motels are cheaper.”

It isn’t the answer she wants to give, but she can’t repeat her mistakes anymore. Her heart aches against the logic she’s feeding herself. Yang draws a sad face in the fog on the glass panel in front of her.

Yang hears Blake sigh into the phone. She doesn’t ask for a real answer now — maybe she thinks she doesn’t deserve Yang’s real story yet.

Yang wants to tell her how wrong that thought is; she talks about street performers instead.

***

Another year, another voicemail. A couple quarters dropped down a slot.

“Hey, Stranger.” The blonde greets with a beaming smile, enough to rival the sun itself.

“Tell me your story.” Blake’s smile is evident in her voice, reflecting the tone Yang is using.

“The sun is always shining here! I don’t feel like my skin is roasting and the air doesn’t weigh a thousand pounds.” She knows this place makes her happy, but she can’t get over the fact that it’s only because of how fast life moves in this city. She simply doesn’t have time to wallow here. “The buildings touch the sky, the sand is so soft, and the ocean goes on forever!”

Blake isn’t here with Yang, it’s an obvious part of the equation, but neither of them say it. Why would they? They have too much to lose when faced with honesty. At least this way, in their weird keeping-in-touch system, they can pretend they don’t want each other as desperately as they do.

They both know it, it’s a matter of who’ll say it first.

Neither of them do. At least, not this year.

Yang talks about dancing in Hollywood instead.

***

Another year, no voicemail. She answers after two rings.

“Hey, Stranger.” Says the voice through the phone. She has a cheery voice this year, but it doesn’t match the boisterousness of last year. Blake knows she’s somewhere new, but more has happened — Yang has been made to grow up a little bit more yet again.

Blake can’t take it anymore. “Come home.”

There’s a pause. Blake swears she can hear Yang’s world screech to a halt. “What?”

She’s disbelieving, but Blake hopes it isn’t a doubt in the sincerity of her demand, but rather a mistrust of what she may have heard.

“I want you to come home. To me. And we can go wherever after that, just as long as we go together.”

Blake isn’t accustomed to having her heart on her sleeve; she’s always kept it locked in a cage. But Yang and herself, they both need a home, and where else better to live but within the same heart?

“I thought you’d never ask,” comes a whispered reply. “I’ll be home before the sun rises tomorrow.”

Yang holds true to her word, and Blake is there when she arrives home. There’s arms wrapped around bodies, holding tight; there’s something about kisses, a morning sunrise, and the whole world finally feeling like home.


	3. Everyone Has a Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake grasps Yang’s hand and turns abruptly, leading Yang out of the party. Yang doesn’t mind following as she watches Blake, mesmerized.

Her hips sway when she walks.

Her height given an extra boost thanks to her purple heels, that are on double duty as they make her calf muscles pop. The slit of her equally purple dress travels up to mid thigh, revealing an expanse of pale skin in its wake that would bring any grown person to their knees. So as Yang’s eyes travel further up, she narrowly avoids collapsing to worship the beauty walking towards her. Blake is hypnotizing.

And her hips sway when she walks.

Yang eyes travel to the ‘v’ of the dress that reveals the slight cleavage of Blake’s chest. And oh boy, worshipping sounds like the only proper thing to be doing right now. Yang can’t stand still anymore, feeling every nerve in her body stand at attention and desperately needing to make her move now while she has an unwavering confidence (thanks to the alcohol).

She tilts her head back, downs the rest of the champagne in the flute, and when a hand comes to rest on her shoulder, she turns to the body that belongs to the hand slightly annoyed.

Weiss is looking at the newly emptied glass as she says, “Please be careful.” But she doesn’t hold Yang’s attention for long, as the blonde looks back to her stunning partner who’s been stopped and talking to a sharply dressed man. “Oh.” Weiss makes Yang turn back to her. “Like I said, be careful and make good choices.”

Weiss turns abruptly and strides away. Yang is left with her original plan (and only outstanding plan she’s ever formulated, ever, she swears). She sets her champagne flute on the nearest table and walks over to Blake.

The man who’s (absurdly) occupying the faunus’ time is quickly forgotten when Blake notices her partner’s approach. An abrupt goodbye is all it takes for the man to lose interest and walk away. And thank whatever gods are above because Blake loses all possible focus on everything except Yang. She couldn’t have kept listening even if she tried.

Yang is breathtaking in a yellow, off the shoulder dress, her hair flowing freely like a halo behind an angel deserving of the heavens.

But Yang approaches too quickly to make further assessments. The glass in Blake’s hand is plucked away and quickly downed by Yang, much to Blake’s dismay.

“You know,” she remarks almost chidingly. “It is an open bar. Meaning, you can order whatever you want without stealing mine.”

The smirk and a humorous glint in Blake’s eyes betray her tone, and Yang knows.

Of course Yang knows. Blake swears they can read each other’s minds.

The brawler sets Blake’s now empty glass on the countertop adjacent to them and grasps her partner’s hand with her own, interlacing their fingers. Yang shakes her head lightly with a smile. “But that would mean leaving you here as I go get more to drink, and I think it’s a crime not to be as close as possible to someone who looks so beautiful.”

Blake brings her left hand up to caress Yang’s cheek, with the blonde’s prosthetic coming to rest on top of her hand. “You’re quite a vision yourself.”

Yang chuckles and leans forward to touch their foreheads. “Baby, you brought the room to their knees when you made your entrance.”

“Is that so?” Blake leans up slightly so their lips brush. “How come I didn’t see you on your knees then?”

Yang presses a kiss firmly to Blake’s lips. “That’s because I fell for you a long time ago.”

Another kiss with more intent, more passion. Yang’s lips seal around Blake’s bottom one, gently nipping once, twice, before she draws away. But Blake doesn’t settle for that as she releases her hold on Yang’s hand, grasping either side of Yang’s face to bring her down for what rapidly becomes a searing kiss, tongues tangling together.

Yang’s fingers graze light trails down Blake’s arms, on her sides over her dress, down to rest at her hips, leaving a blazing heat in their wake.

Yang nips at Blake’s lower lip again, but moves to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then to the spot under her human ear that Yang quickly begins to suck on and graze with her teeth. Blake feels a tightening within her, like the coiling of a spring.

After leaving what’s sure to be a lovely bruise tomorrow, she nips at Blake’s earlobe. She needs to move this somewhere else, somewhere a little more private, but she wants Blake to plead for it first.

“All these people around us,” Yang whispers directly into Blake’s ear, the faunus shivering against Yang’s body as Yang trails her human hand down from Blake’s waist to the slit in her dress, splaying flat against bare thigh. “They’re so distracted. Imagine all the things I could do to you in front of all these people, and not a single one would know.” Yang’s hand moves higher, brushing against the lace under Blake’s dress. “How quiet you’d have to be. If you whimpered too loudly... imagine what would happen if they noticed.”

Blake’s fingers twine into Yang’s hair and she subtly grinds her hips into Yang’s.

It’s a start.

Yang presses Blake more firmly into her and she moves down to kiss the shorter girl’s neck. Her hand that’s splayed on her thigh moves to grasp Blake’s knee, hiking it over her hip. Blake pushes earnestly once more into Yang before biting her lip to hold back a moan.

When Yang moves to her collarbone, Blake gives in. Becoming very aware of their surroundings, and as hot as doing this in public may be, she needs to get Yang alone immediately.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she pants and Yang gently releases her leg. “We need to go. Now.”

Blake grasps Yang’s hand and turns abruptly, leading Yang out of the party. Yang doesn’t mind following as she watches Blake, mesmerized.

Her hips sway when she walks.

And Yang realizes just how much she doesn’t mind watching Blake walk away.


	4. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stripped to the waist / We fall into the river / Cover your eyes / So you don’t know the secret / I’ve been trying to hide”
> 
> \- “Anything Could Happen” by Ellie Goulding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to send me a prompt? Find me on tumblr @royallyeffed

They can’t remember how they got there, they will swear in the future. It wasn’t as if they planned to end up shivering their asses off that night, but they had to make it memorable so they did.

It was a full moon, so maybe that could be blamed, or the fact that they were both so exhausted and the ink black water looked so entirely refreshing that they couldn’t resist. There’s endless excuses, they could come up with anything to excuse away the night: was it Blake’s hand tracing up Yang’s abdomen that set the evening in motion, or was it Yang grazing her lips across Blake’s that did it?

Nevertheless, a shirt was thrown to the soft sand as the lovers stumbled back, lips intertwined after Blake decided that a simple graze could never be enough. Jeans were unbuttoned and kicked away as Blake walked backwards, smile gracing her lips and moonlight reflecting in her hair, hands holding onto the blonde’s as she guided them to the water. Their hands rotated, fingers intertwining as Yang pulled Blake to her chest. A quick rotation and grasping her partner to her chest, Yang sent the two falling into the icy water.

Two heads popped out of the surface as they found their footing, the blonde laughing, head to the sky, and Blake wearing a scowl as if she was made for it. She sent a splash towards her chuckling partner, causing a mischievous glare to be directed at her. Yang disappeared under the surface, a mysterious touch was felt against Blake’s outer ankle moments later, a squeal released in response.

Underwater, the hand traveled up her calf, over her knee, before grabbing around it as Yang appeared above the surface and hitched Blake’s knee over her hip. Another hand wrapped around Blake’s hips, bodies were brought together like puzzle pieces, the contact was their only source of heat in the chilly water and humid air. Blake brought her arms up to wrap around the blonde’s neck, encouraging the tilt of Yang’s head to her own. Foreheads met, noses brushed, but before Blake leaned in, Yang pulled back the smallest amount. Her eyes traced between golden irises that held confusion and amusement alight within them, she took note of the pink blush on pale cheeks, she followed the soft lines of Blake’s lips, tinted a new shade thanks to the moonlight; Blake was mesmerizing.

“Is everything okay?” Blake asked, worry created a new hue within her eyes. Yang’s soft smile instantly calmed her heart.

A verbal response wasn’t needed as their lips met once again. Soft touches created a slight warmth, building a fire from a spark, the young lovers shivering nonetheless. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” Yang said against her lips. “It’s perfect.”

Another waves, another round of kissing and touching. “I’m not going anywhere,” Blake responded in a whisper, her soft voice intertwining with the breeze. “It doesn’t have to end.”

Yang touched her as if it was something she’d done for centuries prior and Blake knew every curve and corner as if it was something she had memorized for an eternity. Their touches felt endless, begging the lovers to believe that the night was created by fate, destiny, and inevitability.

Whether the ocean was responsible for their tempo or they were rewriting the rhythm of the universe, they couldn’t say. The moonlight filtering down gave them new shadows to memorize, chase away, love regardless. The breeze danced through the trees as Blake and Yang moved within the ocean, falling into sync with the world around them as much as they fell into one another.


	5. Dandelions (or the tribute to Yang's hair)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is rapidly becoming the newest addition to this bond, but trust is the foundation -- the reason they’re here. A lovely garden, surrounded by the loveliest flowers and the freshest grass, the only thing enchanting Blake is Yang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, this one-shot is super short, but I'll have another short one posted tomorrow, so ig that kinda makes up for it lol
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this fluff!

_ The suns stands no chance _ , Blake ponders.  _ Try as it might to shine in all its brilliance, it’ll never match the gentle glory of Yang’s hair. _

Yang’s head rests in the faunus’ lap, the wind causing the mane to twirl together and splay apart. Blake’s fingers comb through the liquid gold, interrupting the rhythm of the wind.

To an outsider looking in, it may appear as though the brawler never attempts to tame her hair. It’s always so wild and free, much like her spirit appears to be. But as Blake’s finger soothingly massage her scalp, there are no knots to be tended to, and the hair might as well be the finest silk in the universe.

No, the blonde beast is not unkempt, she only acts as such. And Blake has always been the one to see through her mask, as much as that system works in reverse as well.

Yang proves as such once she opens her eyes and meets golden orbs staring adoringly at her features.

“You look hopelessly in love.” Yang comments with a smirk.

“And if I said you’re wrong?” Blake challenges.

“Then I’d say that you could’ve fooled me.”

But Yang is no fool, and neither is Blake.

Love is rapidly becoming the newest addition to this bond, but trust is the foundation -- the reason they’re here. A lovely garden, surrounded by the loveliest flowers and the freshest grass, the only thing enchanting Blake is Yang.

Not even the dandelions that spread out around them hold contest to the beauty within Blake’s lap (and heart).

It’s a moment of peace that’s been hard earned and a moment Blake wants to cherish, away from prying eyes and locked away in her heart.

She leans down and presses a kiss to Yang’s forehead, lingering so Yang can tilt her head and allow their lips to meet. Yang’s hand comes up to intertwine with Blake’s own hair. Their lips mold together, moving languidly. They pour their love into the other, keeping it safe under lock and key.

Blake gently nips at Yang’s bottom lip, but the kiss ends shortly after when Yang breaks into an earth-shattering grin, too wide to keep kissing through.

“Well,” Yang states. “Maybe you are the fool because I certainly can’t be seeing as that’s how you kiss someone when you love them.”

“If I say you’re right, you’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” Yang sighs happily. “But at least you’re a fool who’s in love with me.”

Sure, maybe Blake is a fool, but the dandelions seem to be falling for Yang too.


End file.
